


Battles Wisely Chosen

by dracoqueen22



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Fjolly Week 2019, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 10:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17765411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: Fjord and Molly have a moment after the Mighty Nein scatters upon realizing they may have bitten off more than they can chew.Written for Fjolly Week, Day Three.





	Battles Wisely Chosen

Jester screams “run!”and even though she’s not usually the one calling the shots, there’s something bloodcurdling and horrified in the shout, and the Mighty Nein turn and scatter without a second thought.   
  
Molly is no exception.   
  
They’ve fought beasts and creatures and even a Krick before, but something about the terror in Jester’s voice sends ice through his veins.   
  
Molly sheathes his swords and takes off into the forest,with the sound of his friends crashing through the wood surrounding him. Something roars, and Molly doesn’t recognize the sound of it, but he’s sure it has lots of teeth and claws and  _hunger_.   
  
He doesn’t know which direction he’s going except away, and he throws up prayers in about a dozen different directions that scattering is the right call and none of them will meet their end on this bright, cloudless evening, under the light of the full moons.   
  
Molly runs.   
  
The noise of crashing through the forest becomes more distant. Less leaves crunching and twigs snapping. The angry roar of a beast fades away. He doesn’t hear any screaming, and hopes that’s a good sign.   
  
He skids to a halt, barely avoiding a crash against a boulder, and gasps to catch his breath. Insects chirp, and an owl hoots, and the silence is oppressive, as heavy as the darkness wrapping around him.   
  
No. Not silence.   
  
Molly whirls, drawing his swords, sliding one across the back of his neck to activate the weird ice powers he still doesn’t fully understand. Something gave chase, he thinks, and he’ll be damned if he dies on his knees.   
  
A  _Vicious Mockery_  hovers on the tip of his tongue, ready to be spat at the beastie trying to make a meal of him, as the crashing and running comes closer, closer, closer--   
  
“Molly, it’s me!”   
  
He nearly swallows his tongue as he stops the Infernal mid-snarl, and it catches in his throat, sending him into a coughing fit. Molly doubles over, tries to catch his breath over the pounding in his chest, as Fjord bursts into view, skidding to a halt within inches of Molly.   
  
“I almost boiled your blood,” Molly says as he straightens, the stench of blood thick on the air now, the back of his neck stinging as a cool wind bites across it.   
  
“Sorry.” Fjord’s gasping for breath, too, and his eyes are big and wild in the moonlight. “Have you seen anyone else?”   
  
Molly shook his head. “No.” He sheathes one sword, and lowers the other, aiming the dull glow at the ground. “What was that thing?”   
  
“Bad news.” Fjord leans over, braces his hands on his knees, and gulps in air. Sweat forms a sheen on his forehead.   
  
“Is it what we’re hunting?” Molly’s not afraid of much, but he knows when something is out of league, and whatever massive creature had shambled out of the cave, he’s pretty sure it qualifies.   
  
Fjord laughs, and it’s dark and frightened. “I think that’s the thing that eats what we’re hunting.”   
  
Gods.   
  
Well, that's just fucking great.   
  
Molly sucks in a deep breath and turns, scanning their surroundings. He can't hear anything but the normal sounds of a forest at night, and it still doesn't reassure him. Though given the size of that beast, he's pretty sure they'd hear it coming.   
  
"What about the others? Did you see them?" Molly asks.   
  
"I saw Jester pushing Caleb and Nott to the east, and I'm pretty sure Yasha was on Beau's heels to the south." Fjord stands and swipes the back of his arm over his forehead. "I'm inclined to believe they're okay."   
  
Molly exhales slowly, his grip loosening on his sword. "Good. That's good." He presses his lips together, thoughts whirling. "Now what?"   
  
"Now we catch our breath, find our friends, and uh, reevaluate, I guess." Fjord moves closer, into Molly's space, and Molly can read the intent in his eyes seconds before Fjord kisses him, though it's just a light brush of his lips.   
  
It's a bit too dangerous for anything more.   
  
"I'm glad I didn't boil your blood," Molly says as he pats Fjord gently on the cheek.   
  
"I'm glad you didn't, too." Fjord chuckles and knocks their foreheads together, gently though, not enough to hurt. "If I hadn't seen the moon on your jewelry, I'd have toasted your ass with an eldritch blast."   
  
Molly grins and whaps Fjord with his tail. "And you thought they didn't serve a purpose."   
  
"Not that kind of purpose anyway." Fjord makes a grab for his tail and misses. Not fast enough yet. "Let's go find our friends."   
  
Molly considers sheathing his sword, but who knows what else they might find out here? It's too quiet; he doesn't like it. "How much do you want to bet that by the time we catch up, Yasha and Jester will have smashed that thing to a pulp?"   
  
Humor is the best coping mechanism. Anything to hide how very afraid Molly had been.   
  
Fjord laughs and bumps shoulders with him. "I don't have much coin left after Pumat's, but if you want to barter for sexual favors..." He trails off pointedly.   
  
Molly mock-gasps. "I've been corrupting you. I like it." He spins in a slow circle, carefully scanning what of the underbrush and nearby trees he can make out in the moonlit dark.   
  
They're west, which puts them closer to either the overpowered monster or Yasha and Beau. Since Jester, Caleb, and Nott all have the capabilities of contacting people, perhaps it's better they go after Yasha and Beau first.   
  
They need to regroup. They need to decide what to do. Molly doesn't like the party split like this, especially knowing that thing is out there. Caleb is particularly squishy.   
  
"If we survive this, you can corrupt me even more," Fjord says against Molly's ear, making him shiver.   
  
"Promises, promises, and a reason to survive. You're such a manipulative bastard sometimes," Molly says, but it's with a laugh. He happens to like manipulative bastards. "Come on. Let's go. I'll follow you, fearless leader."   
  
Fjord rolls his eyes. "Fine, fine. But if a monster eats me, I expect you to avenge my death."   
  
"I'll mourn for a thousand years," Mollymauk promises, but he swears on the enchanted energy glowing on his blade, it won’t come to that.   
  
No one’s going down. Not if he can help it.   
  
No matter what that beast may be.  
  


*

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback, as always, is very welcome, appreciated, and encouraged.


End file.
